


In Good Hands

by LogicalBookThief



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Bones' bedside manner, Crew as Family, Father-Son Relationship, Friendship, Gen, Post-Star Trek Beyond, typical Vulcan levels of sass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 18:11:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7902670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LogicalBookThief/pseuds/LogicalBookThief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarek hears of what happened at Yorktown but doesn't know if his son survived. He intends to find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Good Hands

**Author's Note:**

> After I saw the movie, one of things I thought was, "Wow, I wonder what would happen if Sarek was in the neighborhood when he heard the Enterprise got destroyed AGAIN, and if he found out his son was gravely injured." Thus, I wrote this.
> 
> Pretty much one big gen-fest, but there could be relationships in there, if you squint. And a bunch of Sarek/Amanda feels even if she's not here (because this universe hurts me), she's here in spirit.

Vulcans did not believe in luck. In their culture, it was largely regarded as a tool of myth-weavers and storytellers, flagrantly dramatic and wholly irrelevant to the ongoing function of the universe.

Vulcans did, however, concede to the existence of coincidences.

And as coincidence would have it, Sarek happened to be completing a diplomatic mission on a nearby planet - and preparing to engage in another soon thereafter - when news of the thwarted attack on Yorktown reached his ears.

Including word of the Enterprise crew's involvement.

Beyond that, the details of the event were vague. It appeared that the ordeal has rendered the ship unsalvageable, so there were bound to have been casualties, as well as lives critically endangered.

Now, Sarek had received no specific information to suggest his son in either category. Simultaneously, there was no concrete evidence to _disprove_ this possibility.

Therefore, the reasonable course of action was for Sarek to investigate the matter. He was a short distance away, after all, and it would be swifter to seek the truth himself than await for an answer. It would mean slightly postponing his next mission, but then again, it was unlikely that such a decision would pose any significant ramifications.

For the duration of his brief shuttle journey, Sarek's mind alternated between a multitude of hypotheses, each more worrying than the last. He also found himself lingering on the recent passing of Ambassador Spock.

It was...a difficult situation to quantify: Ambassador Spock was his son, down to every fibre of his DNA. Yet he was not his son, either, insofar as it was another version of Sarek who had sired him, reared him, taught him; presumably very long ago, as this version of his son surpassed Sarek in age, and that fact alone provided an illogical quandary.

Strange, though not altogether surprising, that he should start to reconcile Spock and his counterpart as he confronted his child's mortality. Something that no parent, Vulcan or otherwise, was pleased to accept.

There was no opportunity to contemplate this matter further, however, as the passage to Yorktown elapsed with relative ease, and he arrived without incident. He had seen no point in sending word ahead of time - nor had he the chance, what with the impulsiveness of his decision - since Sarek had no business with the Starfleet directly. But they should have knowledge of Spock's condition, whatever that may be, so he hastened to locate the starbase's central command.

An altogether uncomplicated task, what with the bustle of Starfleet personnel flooding the area, probably in response to the recent, albeit averted, disaster. He couldn't resist discreetly scanning the crowd to see if there was a half-Vulcan among them. 

"Ambassador Sarek?" he heard from his flank, the call sounding somewhat flustered. He turned, seeking out the voice, and caught sight of a young woman dressed in Starfleet red, hurrying in his direction. Upon seeing her face, he recognized her as Lieutenant Uhura.

She uttered a greeting in flawless Vulcan, offered the traditional salute. Sarek returned the gesture, and she smiled warmly. "Forgive me, Ambassador, I was - not expecting to meet you here."

"No, of course not," said Sarek smoothly. "I was a vicinial distance away from Yorktown when I learned of what occurred here, and came to ascertain the status of my son. Is he..."

Yet the rest of the sentence eluded him; Sarek realized, with some distaste, that it was a hint of _fear_ pervading his subconscious that prevented him from finishing that query.

In a manner of understanding that reminded him of Amanda, Lt. Uhura told him gently, "Your son is fine. He sustained serious injuries, but according to Dr. McCoy, he's set to make a full recovery."

Her answer was straightforward, if not ambiguous; nevertheless, Sarek appreciated the confirmation. He suppressed a sigh of relief, the unmade gesture so reminiscent of his late wife that he had to then suppress a sharp stab of longing before the stray flare of emotion could be detected. "May I inquire as to where he's currently convalescing?"

"I can do you one better," Uhura replied. Standing on her tiptoes, she browsed the sea of uniforms as Sarek had a moment ago, when her eyes landed on a gold-clad ensign whom he vaguely recognized.

"Chekov!" she exclaimed, drawing the ensign's attention. He jogged to the pair, eyes widening when he spotted the tall Vulcan standing aside the lieutenant. "You remember Spock's father, Ambassador Sarek. If you're not busy, would you mind escorting him to his son's temporary quarters?"

"Of course, zhat would be no trouble," Chekov said brightly.

"I would escort you myself, but my hands are tied at the moment," she said apologetically. 

"No offense is taken. Your previous engagement takes priority," Sarek rejoined. Again, Uhura's lips quirked; and he marveled, not for the first time, at how humans smiled with so little provocation.

"When I visited earlier he was resting, so he should be awake now."

Sarek failed to understand why his son being conscious should have any bearing on ensuring Spock's wellbeing, yet he made no mention of this, merely inclined his head graciously in her direction.

Ensign Chekov led the way, proving to be quite an animated young man with no qualms prolonging one-sided conversation. Sarek used this to his advantage and inquired about the Enterprise's role in preventing Yorktown's catastrophe, gaining a little insight about the mission that led the ship to its demise, though not nearly enough to satisfy.

Before he could acquire any further information, they arrived at Spock's quarters, which sounded quite occupied; even from outside the door, they could hear what sounded like the loud, irate ramblings of a human male. Sarek raised a single brow at the disturbance. 

"Ze doctor must be in," Chekov said by way of explanation, chuckling at the barely muffled expletives. "If you vill excuse me."

Smirking in amusement for something Sarek wasn't privy to, the ensign made a hasty escape. Deciding not to dwell on the odd human mannerisms, he requested entrance to the room. The noise from within paused, followed by the stomp of footsteps.

"Now who the hel-" The sneering face of Dr. McCoy greeted Sarek, the man's frustration subsiding into something more appropriately stunned under the Vulcan's stare. Over his shoulder, the familiar figure of Captain James T. Kirk gaped at Sarek. 

"Father," Spock breathed. Surprise flitted across his features before fading into the placidity befitting of a Vulcan. Less gracefully, his son attempted to maneuver himself upright in bed. Sarek stepped forward, meaning to stop him, but the doctor seemed of a similar mind, and pushed him back down with far more force than would be expected of a physician.

"Stay still, you unruly hobgoblin," muttered the doctor, his manner suggesting that this was the source of his irritability. Spock regarded him with something akin to exasperation before his gaze flicked over to his father, searchingly.

"Dr. McCoy is correct," Sarek interjected, mildly. "You should comply with his advice. Your injury appears quite extensive."

This recommendation was borne of reasonable deduction, but for some strange reason, Dr. McCoy derived an enormous amount of joy from Sarek's assent. His eyes shone bright with the vigor of validation, his face oozing a smug sort of triumph.

In contrast, Spock's expression was withering, as if Sarek had betrayed him by allying with the doctor. "Quite," he agreed, grudgingly. "Though not as severe as you might believe."

McCoy made a noise of firm disbelief, which probably would have incited a retort from Spock, had Kirk not also anticipated this and placed himself between the two, turning his attention to Sarek.

"Ambassador." He smiled politely, as was Earth custom. "Nice to see you again."

Glancing at Spock, who looked rather skeptical, Kirk coughed. _"Well,_ I wish the meeting were under better circumstances, but..."

"Such is the risk of Starfleet," acknowledged Sarek, a touch wry. Spock stiffened, unlike his captain, who conceded with a shrug.

He clapped a hand over the doctor's shoulder, unsubtly steering him towards the door. "C'mon, Bones. Let these two get re-acquainted awhile."

"Fine," McCoy grumbled, and they left, but not before jabbing a stern finger at Spock, "But don't think a family reunion's gonna get you outta your follow-up."

"Doctor, I would not dare think you and your rattles so easily evaded," Spock drawled, though even that sounded more like a challenge than a defeat.

Alone at last, Spock straightened in his father's presence, and Sarek hadn't a chance to chide him before his son was speaking again, "Father, your concern, while appreciated, was unnecessary. As was your impromptu visit."

Unbidden, a memory of Spock's long gone infancy surfaced in Sarek's mind, specifically that of a stubborn toddler that had been similarly determined to affirm his competency. The brief spell of fondness diminished as he considered a response.

"It is logical for parents be concerned when their child's wellfare is called into question."

Spock offered no retort, given that he had nothing to contradict.

"Perhaps you should relate an accurate account of your injury in order to avoid any misconceptions." A clear invitation, Spock obliged by relaying a concise account of the ship's capture, the escape pod crash, ending with the defeat of a rogue and disillusioned Balthazar Edison.

Midway through the elaboration, Sarek's attention was momentarily diverted by a familiar scent, his gaze flicking to the bedside table, where a teal vase housed an interesting fauna. 

"A Vulcan orchid?" he observed.

"Yes," said Spock, following his gaze. "A gift from our helmsman's daughter. She believes that the offering will make convalescence more pleasant. Or 'cheer me up,' as the captain explained."

"How illogical," Sarek remarked.

"Indeed."

The easy, almost fond admission piqued Sarek's curiosity. "Despite their fickle, erratic behavior of your comrades... You appear to be comfortable among your crew," he commented, a thinly disguised attempt to gauge his son's frame of mind (one that he trusted would've made his wife proud).

After a beat, Spock nodded. Soberly, he admitted, "Yes. But I have found in my time aboard the Enterprise that nowhere am I needed more than among such irrational beings."

Well, Sarek supposed, that answered the question of whether his son intended to remain in Starfleet after the completion of his five-year mission. Somehow, he reckoned that Spock Prime would be pleased by this knowledge.

"Father," Spock addressed. "I imagine you could not have arrived so quickly if you received news of Yorktown on New Vulcan."

Apparently Sarek was not the only one who had mastered this technique of questioning without ever really posing a question. "No. I was finishing a diplomatic mission on Centauri VII."

"Then do you not have other duties you must attend?" Spock asked, perceptive as usual.

"I do," Sarek confirmed. "But they can be postponed."

His son's lips twitched, threatening a frown. "Not on my account-"

"On account of my own decision," Sarek said in a tone which allowed no argument. Without inflection, he continued, "Do you object to my presence on this starbase?"

"No," Spock answered, but the following pause was uncertain. "...How long do you intend to stay?"

"For at least a few days," he said finally. "I believe we are, as you mother would say, overdue for a 'catching up.'"

Spock's eyes glimmered with an unseen smile; perhaps, Sarek saw, he and his crew had a more mutual influence on each other than his son realized.

"However, that can wait until you are sufficiently rested," Sarek concluded. Fortunately, Spock did not attempt to deny his fatigue. A definite improvement: maybe he was starting to understand that, no matter one's age, there was no logic in trying to deceive a Vulcan parent.

As Sarek exited his son's quarters (with the promise of seeing him again tomorrow) he caught both captain and doctor still lingering outside the door, doing a poor job at pretending they hadn't been attempting to catch what scrap of conversation they could. If this was the capability of most senior officers, Starfleet's stealth operations must leave much to be desired.

"Captain," Sarek greeted evenly, noting thar his aloofness only seemed to perturb the pair further.

Kirk grinned sheepishly. "Before you do your follow-up, Bones, I'm gonna say goodbye to Spock. Suddenly I feel the urge to go call my mom," he said wistfully, before disappearing beyond the door.

Which left him in the doctor's sole company, an opportunity Sarek saw fit to utilize. "Dr. McCoy," he began calmly, watching impassively as the man jumped, froze, and then waited for him to continue, wary of whatever conversation was to come.

"Spock informed me of your role in his survival," he went on, although it was more of what he had inferred from his son's narrative that what Spock had outright offered. "I offer you my gratitude. Without your medical expertise, my son might have been lost."

 _As my wife was,_ Sarek did not say. It would have been a superfluous comment, bordering on mournful.

McCoy heard the implication, anyway, his brow softening with what Sarek read as sympathy. A useless sentiment, as humans generally produced, yet Sarek found he did not mind. In truth, he had lost so much, within such a short span of time, that the thought of also losing Spock had him excusing a multitude of irrational behaviors today, even his own.

"There's really no need to thank me," McCoy mumbled in earnest, some of his gruffness fading as he spoke. Shoulders squared, he recited, "It's my duty to save lives."

A response worthy of any standard medical oath, surely. With far more warmth, moreover, McCoy added, "But it's my honor to protect a friend."

 _Friend_. The term was familiar, but held little value in a Vulcan's vocabulary. No doubt Amanda would be vastly affected by this declaration; but whereas she would be overflowing with joy, no visible reaction came from Sarek.

Even so, he noticed a spark of pleasure well inside of him at the doctor's announcement, the captain's obvious care, the token from the helsman's daughter, and so on.

Originally, Sarek had fiercely opposed Spock's entry to Starfleet Academy. A standing army of starships, no matter how shrouded in discovery and exploration, seemed too close to a military institution for him to approve. A dangerous, intrusive occupation was never what he'd envisioned for his son. Kind, exasperated Amanda had tempered his misgivings over the years, maintaining that Spock's choices were his own. And while that was irrefutable, Sarek knew this conviction would be a cold comfort to his wife should their son be slain in action.

With years of grief and strife in his hindsight, Sarek relented that his first assessment might have been unfair. Starfleet, for all its faults, had given Spock what the Vulcan Science Academy never could - what he had sought most ardently since childhood.

_Acceptance._

And for that, Sarek was grateful.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! If you liked, leave some feedback down below.


End file.
